


Tell me a scary story

by Andreri25



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Depressing, Halloween Special, M/M, MY GAY BABIES, Maedhros is an incest legend, beleg is a good story teller, more like, no, not really scary, people say he went grief mad, really - Freeform, story time, turin loves stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 06:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16571594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andreri25/pseuds/Andreri25
Summary: It's a late night patrol and Turin is sleepy, so he asks Beleg for a story to keep him awake all night.





	Tell me a scary story

Beleg and Turin’s Halloween Especial

It was the late hours of the night, nothing but darkness about them. The crisp cold air was not lit by the moon nor the stars, a minute fire the only source of light and warmth for Turin.

Well, almost the only one.

Beleg dropped another few dry branches into the fire and turned his head slightly to the side to listen, attentive to any possible dangers on their scouting area. They had stopped briefly for Turin to regain some body heat on the cold autumn night, but would soon need to keep going. Just not just yet.

An owl hooted in the distance and the young man realized with a shiver that he was absolutely bored out of his mind. “Beleg, tell me a story?”

Silver grey eyes glance far off into the darkness before falling tenderly on his lover, “What kind of story do you fancy?” After knowing him for so long, Beleg had already ran out of his best epic battle stories, haunting stories and even the few love stories he was familiar with. Yet Turin would always regard any tale from him as if it were a brand new adventure just shared to the world. It was adorable to see such wonder on the boy’s face, in Beleg’s opinion.

“Tell me something frightful. Hopefully the scare will keep me awake longer than a few hours.” Turin spoke whilst moving to sit against the archer’s broad chest, curling to fit as best as he could on the other’s lap.

“I told you yesterday that you should had rested instead of messing around” Beleg tsked, though he himself had some fault in that ‘messing around’. “Something frightful, hu? Let me think…”

After a few seconds of comfortable silence in which Turin was pretty sure he felt asleep, Beleg took a deep breath and began speaking.

“Once there was a mighty elven prince, eldest of his House, known by all his kind for his sharp intellect and even sharper skills in battle. He had accomplished many a great feat on the long war against Angband, and he was respected and feared for that. However he was a proud Lord and had a temper comparable to the fieriest of the elves.

“And he was cursed.

“Being well aware of this, the prince wanted neither dispute nor glory and retired to the mountains seeking the calm of the cold. There he dwelled in solitude for a long time, only sharing war news and strategies with the rest of the world. A staled warrior, his was curse slowly eating him away with the anguish of an unfulfilled oath.

“Concerned for him, one of the prince’s brothers recurred to a desperate attempt: to bring him his lover, in the uttermost secrecy.

“They had grown together in the golden fields beyond the sea, fallen in love in a time of peace and happiness long gone. And though they held for each other a love as pure and bright as starlight, alas, it was forbidden for they were close in kin and a centuries long feud divided both sides of their family.

“Hearing of his love’s state, this other elf’s heart bled for him, and he departed alone in the dead of night, away from his family, his people and his responsibilities. For the prince’s lover was also his king.”

Turin audibly gasped, absolutely entailed in the story. Beleg couldn’t stiff a chuckle.

“Upon sight of each other, the dim flame of their love sparked right back into a raging blaze, and it was as if the years had not passed for either of them since their sweetheart days. They met in secret often after that. His people never knew who the king had married, and he was unfazed by the rumors and gossip. And for a time, the prince was overjoyed.

“But the cursed, cursed stay, and it was his doom for everything he built with good heart to be crumbled to pieces by his own hand.

“The prince wanted to be rid of his cursed to live out his life free to be with his love, and so he put to work and scheme and negotiate the greatest alliance ever made. All the free peoples were called. A great campaign began, to wipe evil of this lands once and for all. The battle to end all wars.”

At this, Beleg hesitated. No doubt Turin had already recognized which battle he talked about from the tales his own mother or his father’s friends had told him as a child. Perhaps he should have though better before picking this particular story.

Noticing the prolonged silence, Turin squeezed Beleg’s arm tied around his waist. “I want to know what else happened”

Beleg had the feeling he didn’t mean only in regards of the prince’s story, but that was to be reserved for a later night.

“Though they wanted to, the lovers could not fight side by side, each in charge of their own legions. So the king set out first and the prince would meet him from the rear, as a secret ambush to their enemy. But he was betrayed, and their careful plans turned south. The lovers were sundered, on both ends of a blood bath, with no way to reach each other.

“Angbang’s wrath was upon us then like it had never been before. The battle was bloody and you could breathe the filth in the air. And the screams….

“Maedhros called for the king since the moment he arrived at the battlefield. Fingon tried to answer as best as he could, guiding him to where he was as they both cut through the fell forces.

“And then he didn’t answer anymore.

“In all my years of living, seldom have I seen as much pain and sorrow as in that day. Nor have I heard mountain shattering screams like Maedhros’ when he found the King’s shattered body.”

Beleg’s eyes had turned distance as he spoke of the Nírnaeth Arnoediad, too lost in the memories to notice he had revealed the real protagonists or that he had begun speaking from Beleg’s own point of view. That was what Turin really loved about his lover’s tales. The way the archer would immerse fully in the story and forget himself. It was beautiful to see.

“They say he took it with him, and never put him to rest. That he mourned the king in his bed even as the flesh rotted away. And after that, when there was nothing left but bones. They say that he still keeps the king’s skull, calls it lover over and over, caressing it as the mad prince waits for an answer.”

Finishing his lot, Beleg’s silver pools turned to Turin, who raised a brow.

“Is that all?” He inquired, “That was hardly a terrifying tale. More like a tragedy, my love.”

Beleg blinked “Perhaps. But to be sundered from you in that way…” He cupped Turin’s cheek with one hand, brushing the bangs off his forehead with the other. His fingers trembled. “…It frightens me more than anything in the world.”


End file.
